


burns half as long when it’s twice as bright

by creerencrear



Category: Original Work
Genre: Healing, Letters, Poetry, lapslock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:06:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 1,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23517385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/creerencrear/pseuds/creerencrear
Summary: a series of burn letters to things i miss.title from stargazing by isabella celander.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 1





	1. here’s what it is; here’s what it’s not

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i keep every letter i’ve received.

a burn letter is:  
letting go of a balloon  
with a wish upwards. 

here’s what it isn’t:  
holding onto emotions  
that won’t let you breathe.

don’t look back and dwell;  
release what you’ve been holding  
and just breathe. breathe. breathe.


	2. dear writing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i used to write poetry.

dear writing,

the longer i stay away,  
the more feelings i hold onto;  
the more emotions i can’t put down. 

i’ve been holding onto these for a while;  
it’s comforting that your arms take me in  
even after my abrupt disappearance.

it was hard for a long time,  
(it still is)  
but giving into you is like smiling.  
as hard as i might try not to,  
i give in.  
i always do. 

please take me back with open arms  
and an open heart.  
i can’t apologize properly for leaving yet  
but i’ll let you know when i can plead forgiveness for  
exactly what i’m sorry for  
and  
why.

abandoning you didn’t help,  
but i don’t think i thought it would.  
it just became easier to not think about  
the painful things:  
the things i can’t have  
because i don’t let myself have them,  
than to give into you  
and self reflect  
and write. 

i hope you know i love you.  
i do.  
i did.  
and i will, until my fingers can’t move  
and my heart stops feeling.  
you’ll be my last love as you were one of my first.  
thank you for all you have given me,  
taught me,  
helped me,  
showed me,  
loved me.

with a tender heart and cautious hands,  
a returning writer


	3. here’s what it is; here’s what it’s not

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i used to have a left arm with strength and no metal rod.

dear left arm before,

it’s been a while, hasn’t it? i thought  
the less i thought about you before  
the easier the after would be. 

i was wrong. 

pretending like nothing changed  
helped as much as  
getting your hands wet  
to grab a bar of soap would. 

(not at all; if anything, it made it worse.)

sometimes, i let my mind run rampant  
with thoughts of two unbroken twig arms,  
perfectly imperfect and weak but unbroken  
and unharmed.  
change hurts, i think, a lot sometimes. 

more than you want it to.  
and that’s okay because change means  
growth  
but growth is uncomfortable and painful  
and i’m tired of it hurting already. 

i’m sorry i took you for granted.  
i don’t anymore, especially not the fact  
that i still have you at all.  
others aren’t so lucky, even if you hurt sometimes.  
i’m sorry i don’t try harder to make you worth something.  
i’m sorry i keep saying sorry instead of doing something. 

that’s me.  
apologizing for things  
and not acting to make things better.  
amelioration was never my strong suit,  
but i should try to make it that,  
shouldn’t i?

for you;  
for what you stand for  
and stood for  
and taught me about pain  
and growing  
and strength;  
for you,  
i’ll try.

with love and a few shed tears,  
the human that manipulates your actions; the one that ruined you in the first place


	4. dear hank

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i used to have sunshine in the form of a dog.

dear hank,

i would ask how heaven is,  
because it’s surely the only place  
you deserve to go,  
but i don’t know if there is a heaven,  
so i’ll greet you instead with a hug  
from my heart.

you’re not far from me, physically,  
but you’re no longer there with me  
in the mortal realm.  
or maybe you are,  
and i should talk to your ghost  
because god knows i miss talking to you.

i’m not sorry for you.  
i tried to love you as best as i could  
when i had you,  
and fuck,  
of course i could have been better  
more present  
more loving  
more gentle  
more happy  
more. 

but you filled a hole in my heart  
and my soul  
and my life  
that i feel the absence of now that you’re gone  
(before, i had no idea it existed.  
now i wish i knew it didn’t)

i miss you everyday  
even though we adopted two ankle biters  
who yip and sometimes sound and look like rusty  
but he’s gone too and this isn’t for him,  
this is for you. 

thank you for being everything i needed.  
i still need you, but  
i guess everything is either a blessing  
or a lesson  
and you happened to be both.  
i have nothing to be sorry for  
but it’s ingrained into my fingerprints and my tongue  
and it’s the only thing left i can think of to say.  
but i’m not sorry for getting attached  
and for adoring you.

it was one of the best decisions of my life.  
(you were one of the best decisions of my life)

with an aching soul and a space  
forever for you in my heart,  
a young girl who did not know grief until you left


	5. dear ex-something

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i used to be in love.

dear ex-something,

i haven’t talked to you in months,  
a year probably  
or more.  
i’ve become a different person.  
not completely,  
but enough that separating our lives  
was the best option for me as a teenager  
that hadn’t figured herself out much at all. 

you were my best friend.  
i thought i was yours,  
and to you i probably was.  
but to me, i was not,  
at least not in the way i deserved. 

you were a bad influence  
and i do not regret distancing myself. 

but i think about you often and let myself burn. 

i loved you.  
not romantically, i think, looking back. but as something more than i could have with you. more than i was allowed to want.  
i didn’t tell you. you’ll probably never know.  
i don’t want you to. 

it was a toxic relationship for me, ours was,  
because i believed in your harshness  
and your rebellion  
and bad ideas  
and closed mind  
and hatred  
and hindsight is twenty-twenty,  
so now i know that the only reason i stayed as long as i did was  
you felt like liberation from a small town  
and rioting against the man  
and like maybe i could choose who i was. 

but i don’t want to choose who i am.  
i want to accept who i am  
and all the queerness  
and strangeness  
and differences. 

i loved you, like juliet loved romeo,  
but i chose not to kill myself for you.  
i realized my worth  
and it doesn’t include  
being lied to  
and feeling like i had to hold my tongue  
and not be able to touch you. 

(your homophobia didn’t stop me from being lgbtq+, but it did stop that).

maybe i was too young  
and you were too young  
and our friendship was doomed from the start.  
but i still wanted to kiss you  
and i wish i hadn’t had to learn  
that being friends with someone  
(even if you’re in love with them)  
does not mean cutting supportive,  
ineffable people from your life  
because that’s what you taught me.  
and i am lucky enough  
that my friends are fierce in their love  
and forgave me for needing to learn this lesson  
that hurt them in the process. 

so thanks, i guess,  
for teaching me something.  
but don’t call, don’t text,  
and don’t talk to me  
unless you’ve grown up too,  
and have an apology sitting in your mouth.  
you brought out the worst in me,  
but i’m trying to heal and learn  
and grow.  
so if that time comes,  
i’ll have an apology camping out in my mouth too  
for letting myself fall into you too deeply. 

with a bitter aftertaste and snapdragons,  
your ex-“best” friend


	6. dear happiness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i'm used to begging for forgiveness.

dear my happiness,  
it has been a long time, but  
longer times have passed.

it’s good to see you;  
i missed your warmth and your heart,  
take me back gently.

it’s all i ask you,  
my label: “handle with care”  
i crave softness now.

please, please, please, please, please;  
please, please, please, please, please, please, please.  
please, please, please, please, please.


	7. dear summer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i used to be less dependent on the sun to be happy.

dear summer,

i take you for granted every single time  
you roll around after spring  
(which is my favorite season,  
but nothing makes me smile like the sweltering humid heat  
you bring).

i do not know enough english words,  
or even words from foreign languages,  
to describe the euphoria you give me.

but euphoria;  
because it’s short lived and ephemeral,  
and i take it for granted anyway.

every.  
single.  
time. 

thank you for a yellow sun,  
that burns my nose and warms my finger tips;

thank you for your bright mornings and drawn out nights,  
that call for breakfast outside and bonfires every night;

thank you for your green trees,  
that invite hummingbirds and butterflies and life;

thank you for your warm water,  
that melts me like jelly any time of the day;

thank you for my happiness,  
because i owe it to you mostly.

going on camping trips where i see my family i can’t see during winter,  
working on myself and my mental health because school can’t get in the way,  
creating art and music and love and having time to love myself,  
smiling with freckles speckled on my face and checking for freckles on my shoulders,  
spending more time than ever with my friends doing whatever we want;

i would burn a million and two times to be in your presence every day.

thank you.  
i’m still learning not to take advantage of you;  
to not take you for granted.

but thank you.

with a hopeful spirit awaiting your glory,  
a may baby with seasonal depression


End file.
